War of Heirs
by MissMitty
Summary: Obadiah Stane had promised the young Tony Stark to take care of his illegitimate daughter. After his death, Stark finds out what he actually did to her. Now, there is one thing the great billionaire cannot buy: Forgiveness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! First of all, thanks for giving my new story a chance. Please leave a review for anything you want to tell me. Reviews help me keep going and brighten my day!**

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_"The truth is… I am Iron Man."_

Joe came in and looked at the TV. "Man, rich folks just don't know what to do with their money," he commented.

I started giggling hysterically out of nowhere, none of the girls in the stuffed, filthy room minded me. Why would they? We were high all the time—drugs were the only way to keep us under control—and no one expected us to act reasonable. But this time, I actually had a pretty good reason to laugh; I was imagining their reaction if I told them the truth. That my father was Anthony Edward Stark. Joe would probably think I had a concussion, or had stolen some good stuff from his stash.

"Hey Liv, you are up tonight," he told me.

I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and took a deep breath. "Okay."

Joe didn't hang around for long, so I returned to watching that selfish, arrogant, irresponsible bastard pretending to be a hero in front of the cameras. _Iron Man_. Then he confessed how he had fried Obadiah Stane on his factory rooftop—which was, I assumed, something he wasn't supposed to say because the man in the military uniform standing behind him panicked for a moment—and earned my respect, or the closest thing to respect I could feel for that coward, for the first time in his life. If there was someone I hated more than Tony Stark, it was Obadiah Stane. He was the main reason I was living in this hellhole. Apparently, he had finally revealed his true face.

Maybe I should start from the beginning.

My mom died when I was 15. Her parents had disowned her when they learned that she got pregnant after a one-night stand with an infamous playboy. She said they believed in traditional family roles and were strictly against trends like single parenting and one-nighters. She raised me alone in a small, friendly town. She was a proud woman. I always knew who my father was, and sometimes watched him on the news or saw his pictures in the newspapers. We had two rules: I wasn't going to tell anyone who my dad was and I wasn't going to try to meet him under any circumstances. And I did so. I had a bunch of good friends at school, but they all thought my father was someone insignificant who died before I was born. After some time, even I started to believe that lie. Mom worked as a freelance writer, and we were self-sufficient and happy in our little world. Until one day she passed out in the living room. I called the ambulance, at the hospital the doctors said she needed to go under surgery immediately. She never made it out.

My grandparents attended to her funeral, but they refused to take my custody afterwards. They just made contact with Tony Stark to let him know that he had a child, and as you can guess, he freaked out when the paternity test proved their claim right. Honestly, I didn't remember much of his reaction, because he didn't even bother to look at my face.

His mentor, Obadiah Stane, took the matter into his own hands before it became a public scandal, and arranged a boarding school for me. All the prodigal son had to do was to pay the bills and I would be out of his sight and his mind for good. But instead of a boarding school, he brought me here, sold me to the Boss—no one knew his real name, that was how we called him here—telling me that my life as a Stark would be over before it began. From that moment, I knew he wanted the Stark empire for himself. No usurper wants to leave a rightful heir behind.

And this was exactly what happened. What we were doing here was sick: We fought and entertained rich men. Yes, some people loved to watch young girls fight, sometimes to the death. They paid a fortune to see it. This was the new Coliseum. The only difference was, the audience preferred young, pretty girls to tough gladiators.

Well, I didn't know who in their right mind would consider us pretty. Our bodies were full of scars, stitches and bruises. Some of our teeth were missing. Drugs consumed us inside out. We cut our hair as short as possible by ourselves to prevent the opponent from grabbing it during the fight. It didn't matter anymore. I didn't want to be pretty.

* * *

By listening to the noise coming from downstairs, I could tell the place was crowded tonight. Where we lived was an abandoned gym complex in the nasty part of the city, and the ground floor was used as the ring. I didn't know who my opponent would be tonight, I was only hoping it wasn't Ruth. Ruth was fast, and when she hit, she hit really bad. I remember spitting blood three days in a row after my first match with her. I also owed her my first broken tooth. I was here only for two years and starting to wonder how long it took for us to become totally useless.

"Come on, Ruth is waiting for you," Joe said and dragged me with him.

I moaned.

Joe gently lifted my chin with his rough, oily fingers. Of all people who ran this business, he was the only one with a slight hint of conscience. He was a tall, blond man in his twenties, but he looked like at least thirty. Gods knew for what reason he ended up working for the Boss. "You can do it, Liv."

He led me to the ring and I suddenly felt a chill down to my spine. The room was big and cold. There were at least two dozens of people, but they weren't enough to warm it up. I was wearing a pair of black shorts and a black sports bra as usual. There wasn't an actual ring, like the kind professional boxers fought on, there was only a square area on the concrete floor drawn by rusty iron fences. They weren't too high so that the audience could see us without any disturbance, except the nights they demanded a cage fight.

Ruth grinned at me across the other corner of the ring like a predator. She was going to kick my ass tonight. All I wanted was to keep my bones intact. Broken bones were the worst.

Joe gave the signal, and we started fighting as people called our names to encourage us.

_Liv! Liv! Liv!_

_ Ruth! Ruth! Ruth!_

There was no technique, or any protection equipment. For us, there were only instincts and luck. I managed to dodge some of Ruth's attacks, and even to punch her in the face and kick in the stomach, but it only made her angrier. She slammed herself on me at the first opportunity, grabbed my head with both her hands like it was a ball, and started smashing it on the floor.

Suddenly, I felt disgusted by the thrill the audience felt, and I decided to make no further contribution to it. What good was it? After a good fight, I was rewarded with a shot, it made me feel good for a while, but the cycle would never end. What good was living this life? Would I go to hell for the things I had done? But I was innocent before this began. I was innocent. I never wanted any of this. So I gave up. I let Ruth end my suffering once and for all.

This wasn't how I was going to die, however. Someone threw a rope at us, she took it, turned me around, placed herself on me so that I couldn't escape, yanked my head and strangled me with the rope.

It was burning my neck. My fingers tried to loosen it, but it was in vain. I didn't even know why I was trying. It was me who asked for it. My body floundered under Ruth's weight as I choked and I kept resisting. Maybe I was one of those idiots who held onto hope till the very end.

With every second passing, I lost my sense of reality a bit more. My vision blurred, and at some point I thought the audience scattered around screaming when a man in red and gold suit flew into the hall from the broken window.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up in an unusually clean and bright place. A hospital room. Apparently, an expensive one. Apart from a terrible headache and a sore throat, I was feeling OK. I got out of the bed and looked out of the window, trying to remember what had happened last night. The non-stop noise of the city rush and the shadows of the tall buildings outside suggested that this was still New York, that much was obvious.

There were voices outside the door, a man and a woman arguing quietly.

_"…one in California and one is in Europe. Which one is it going to be?"_

_ "I don't know, Pepper… A+ parenting skills run in the family, I guess."_

_ "No one expects you to be the father of the year, Tony. But you have to start from somewhere."_

_"And where is that, exactly?"_

_ "Not shipping her off to another continent would be a good start."_

_ "You, Ms. Potts, can be utterly convincing when you want to be. California it is, then."_

I stopped eavesdropping. It was pointless. My life had been irreversibly destroyed, and he was still making jokes as if he had no part in it. What was I expecting, anyway? That just because he came to my rescue in one of his fancy toys, he suddenly turned into a decent man with a sense of shame?

A clean bathroom was something I had been dreaming of for a long time, so it was the next place I was headed to, without stopping to think what a bad idea it would be. The moment I turned on the lights, the reflection of an unrecognizable wreckage greeted me. Back in that fight pit, I hadn't had the chance to see what I really looked like, without any proper mirrors or well-lit bathrooms. The stranger on the mirror terrified me, and it was only her face yet. I wanted to take off the cervical collar and the white hospital robe to see the rest, but I was too scared. So I covered the mirror with a towel instead. I washed my hands and my face with trembling hands while sobbing, hoping for a miracle, as if the water could wash the damage away. The scars weren't new, but now the fact that I had to live seeing them everyday struck me hard. It wasn't only the scars. Malnutrition and drugs had also taken their toll. I had to live in this deformed body for the rest of my life. Looks were the least of my concerns when there was no hope for a better future, but now that I was going to return to the normal world somehow, it mattered again. By the time I returned to the bed, my fingertips had swollen because of the hot water.

The door opened slowly and Tony Stark entered. I pretended to be asleep to avoid him. He patiently waited, and I kept pretending.

"I know you're awake," he finally said.

What was he expecting? A hug? "Screw you."

"Yeah, screw me. I probably deserve that."

I opened my eyes. He looked just as I remembered him from two years ago, when I first met him as a teenage girl with such naive plans for the two of us that they could make Pollyanna laugh at my face. Except the glowing blue circle on his chest. He was probably proud of that thing, though, as it was a reminder of the fact that he was a genius god among ordinary men. Otherwise, he would be looking just like any other visitor here, in his dark jeans and leather jacket.

"Are you still here?" I asked, tired beyond caring.

"Technically, I am allowed to stay."

"Get out!" I hissed. "I don't want you here. I don't want to see your stupid face ever again!"

He left the room without a word. He didn't even seem to be offended. I turned on my other side and slept as much as I could. It was the only way to escape from this miserable existance.

However, the serenity didn't last long. That night, I had the first craving episode since my last dose. I fought, begged and screamed to make the doctors give me something to end this misery. They didn't. Instead, they tied me to the bed. Sometimes I kept fighting, other times gave in. A few days passed, my injuries healed, and after a final check up, they transferred me to a rehabilitation center in California for my drug addiction. Only then, I realized what Tony Stark and that woman were talking about. I hadn't seen any of them since that first day in the hospital. Maybe he was even relieved that he didn't have to look after me.

But his presence was still everywhere. Nothing around me could be afforded by anyone from my previous life. I had a large, single room with a nice view. Everyone in the facility was kind and gracious. My new clothes—I didn't have any, so not accepting them wasn't an option—were luxury brands, from the stores I wouldn't even dare to browse. I knew he was the one who paid for all these. I was angry with him, but I was no idiot. This was my only chance to recover. And I wanted to recover more than anything else. At least this much I could get rid of. This was the only reversable aspect of the damage. It wasn't easy, but once my body was cleansed from drugs, I became able to think more clearly, and gradually returned to my old self, although I was never going to be the same again. The main reason was that rumors about the tragic Stark heiress had been spreading. They were on the news, in tabloid gossips, everywhere. People were going to know who I was once I was out of the rehab. I would no longer be an ordinary girl. That was why I avoided others here. It was going to be hard to find my real voice in all that tumult, so I wanted to listen to myself while I still had the chance. Before coming out permanently, I had all the time in the world here to think about the past, the present and the future while recovering. The doctors had told me that my cooperation was essential, so I cooperated. I did everything they told me to do. It wasn't easy, but not impossible. The only thing I refused to listen was my therapist's advice to speak with _him_.

That was until I received a surprise visitor. My grandmother.

I was taking a walk in the garden when she showed up one afternoon. I could have called the security, and I wanted to. She and her husband had always looked down on me, like I was the offspring of Satan himself. But more importantly, their rejection had broken my mother's heart. She had wanted to be a mother, and she had been a good one until her death. She hadn't deserved to be chastised for her choices.

After an infinite number of phony apologies and compliments, she finally told me what she was here for. Her husband was sick, and their insurance didn't cover the operation. She wanted me to talk to my father and help them.

The only reply she got was my first genuine laugh in two years. Karma.

There was no forgiveness to be found in my heart. I was angry, angry beyond comprehension, but the decision wasn't an impulsive one. It made perfect sense to me. They were no less guilty than Tony Stark. They were even worse. I didn't owe them anything, and it was what they deserved. They wished I hadn't been born, so I was granting them their wish now. They couldn't ask for help from someone who didn't exist.

I wondered if she would try to guilt trip Tony Stark as well. He might be the very definition of selfishness, but by judging his latest actions, he had developed a new obsession with heroism and philanthropy, which could ruin this perfect opportunity for my revenge. So, the next day, I told my therapist that I was finally ready to see my father, but I wasn't sure he still wanted to see me.

She laughed and said he came here twice a week for counseling and closely followed my progress. The only reason he stayed away was not to upset me and interfere my recovery in a negative way.

He indeed came to visit that evening. We had a long, peaceful chat in my room. I told him how he broke my heart when he rejected me, how Stane sold me to the human traffickers, and how I spent my last two years in human cockfights. He told me how he was kidnapped in Afghanistan, how he recalled me when his friend in the caves, Yinsen, asked if he had any family, how he became Iron Man and how much trouble he got into to find me after Stane's betrayal.

My grandparents was the subject I saved for the last. He said no one had recently approached him to ask for money, but he remembered an elderly woman named Alice Winters, who claimed to be my grandmother and asked to see me. Pepper Potts had looked into it and when she found out Alice was telling the truth, he had thought there would be no harm in telling her where I was staying. When he heard what happened between us, he told me not to act on vengeance or rage, as I might regret it later. That I might not forgive myself if he died.

"The only person who seeks my forgiveness is you," I reminded. "And I am giving you one chance to earn it. Only one. If you do something stupid like helping those miserable, shameless old fools behind my back, you will lose it forever. Have I made myself clear?"

My cruel threat hovered in the air for a moment. He didn't expect such a severe threat after a calm, reasonable conversation. I could be the only person in the world who had ever seen the great Tony Stark with such a terrified expression on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

_What would Mom think?_

The thought had been haunting me since I made that deal with Tony Stark. What would she think, if she could see me, leaving her father to die mercilessly and threatening the only man she had ever loved? The idea of revenge had never occurred to me until I saw my grandmother, but making the choice I had made was easy at the spur of the moment. Not every 17-year-old girl had a power over someone's life, and realizing I could hold my enemy's life in my hands gave me unique, evil satisfaction. I knew even more power would come with the Stark name. All I had to do was to be smart about it. Yet, the only thing power couldn't do was to provide an answer for the question about my mom.

After he agreed not to help my grandparents, Tony Stark paid me a visit twice a week, every Monday and Thursday evening. I fulfilled my end of the bargain, at least I pretended to do so, and acted like I was ready to forgive him. It was another Monday evening when I heard a knock on the door while watching TV. Television was my only connection to the outside world apart from my biological father. The facility didn't normally allow visitors after 4 PM, but he had a habit of bending the rules, probably just for fun or to feel special.

He came in, and I made out a warm, innocent smile. It was important to convince him that I wasn't a total psychopath.

"How are you doing today, honey?"

"Same old, same old. What's that?" I asked, pointing to a small, silver box tied up with a satin ribbon.

"Oh, that's a surprise you are going to love, but for now it's irrelevant." He noticed that the Stark Expo was on the news again. "Did you watch the opening ceremony?" he asked as he sat on the couch.

"Of course."

"So, what did you think?"

"It was a bit extravagant, but you were just being _you_, I guess. Still, not as impressive as your show at the senate."

"Oh, that's not even worth mentioning. Do you have any idea how tedious those politicians are? Such ass-clowns…"

"By the way, I forgot to ask you about Howard Stark. It was very nice of you to honor his memory with that video." I had a hunch that he had a problematic relationship with his father, so I took the opportunity of tormenting him a little.

"What about him?" he asked, in his usual, cocky manner, but his eyes were clouded. Now I knew him enough to notice such slight differences in his expression.

"Tell me more about grandpa Stark."

"Well, he was a great inventor,businessman and heart-breaker who, I presume, turned out to be an equally great husband, but he was far from being a good father."

"I wonder how Maria Stark stole his heart."

"My father had a talent to recognize people with ulterior motives. For a rich guy like him, it must have been hard not to be impressed by her when he found a woman without one."

There was a subtle message for me in these words. I was actually trying to lure him into a subject about my own mother, but it had backfired. He was using an insinuating, arrogant, accusing tone.

"What do you mean?" I asked. If he had started a quarrel with me, he was going to finish it.

"There are always people who consider themselves as special snowflakes who can impress an incurable playboy, then tame him, enchant him, conquer his heart and wrap him around their fingers for the rest of their lives… It's a good thing that we Stark gentlemen are too smart for them."

"You are basically describing gold-diggers."

"Hmm hmm."

"What are you trying to imply? That I am after your money?" I snapped. "Are you insane? How much money do you think would be enough to fix what you all have done to me?"

"I never said you were after my money. Now calm down and listen—"

This was so embarrassing. This whole time, he had been making a fool out of me while I thought I was manipulating him. No matter what happened, my pride, which I had taken from my mom, was the priority, not vengeance. Surprisingly, that part of me remained the same after all.

"No! You listen! As soon as I get out of here, I will find a job and pay back whatever I cost you in the last six months! Then you will never have to see me again! I am nearly 18, so don't worry! You can return to being a drunk, useless, heartless playboy!"

He grabbed my shoulders and gently forced me to sit down. "I will never abandon you again, kiddo. Whether you like it or not."

"I am really confused right now… What exactly do you want?" I was calmer now, but still frustrated.

"I want you to give me one _real_ chance to be a father."

"I already gave you one."

"Let's be honest, that was just a scam for revenge. Am I included on your list, I don't know. But I am not judging you. I am not Howard Stark. I don't want a fake daughter. I don't want her fake affection. My money, my influence, my legacy… It's already yours. If you are going to forgive me, I want it to be for real."

He handed me the silver box. Inside, there was an ID card, a passport, a bankbook with impressive numbers printed on it, and other legal documents. All for Olivia _Stark_. Not for Olivia Winters. He had proven his point by officially giving me his last name.

"I'm going to Monaco next week. Beautiful city, but too much press, so I thought we could meet up in Italy, or Switzerland after the Grand Prix, or any other place you would like to see… I'll talk to the doctors. You and me, we can make a good team… I can cancel my birthday party if you want to extend the trip…"

There was just silence now. A dreadful silence, like this was a trial and I was the judge. I broke it with the harsh truth. "I don't like you. I never will. If you died tonight, I couldn't care less. This is what you mean to me. No matter which part of the world we go, it won't change."

"Okay." He stood up and prepared to leave. Suddenly, he wasn't my father anymore, he was just a stranger who spoke on behalf of him, and for some reason it bothered me more than it should.

"What am I to you?" I suddenly asked. "A daughter, or just another rescue mission to silence your guilty conscience?"

He sat back and looked me in the eye. "I have this bad habit of being a perfectionist, Olivia. If I think a project is something less than awesome, I'll send it to the recycle bin right away. Too bad there is no undo button for parenthood. My old man could have used one. And we are more alike than I want us to be."

I scoffed. "The irony is, you repeated his mistakes while trying to avoid them."

"Not all of them. He should have seen Obadiah coming. Unlike my dad, I will not leave you with a hateful, backstabbing, bat-shit crazy bastard if something happens to me. That's why I appointed Pepper the new CEO. She is trustworthy."

I didn't know he had appointed a new CEO. Was he retiring? Why? Something he hadn't told me yet was going on. "What's that now? Your testament?"

He prepared to say something, then changed his mind and just gave me a brief hug instead. "Goodbye, kiddo."

Before he closed the door, I asked him one last sweating question. "Would _you_ press that button? The undo button, if it existed?"

He thought for a moment to find an honest reply. "Probably no," he said before closing the door.

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**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry, I forgot to thank you for your support in the previous chapter. At first I was very unsure about this story, but it turned out to be my most successful one so far. I wasn't expecting that, so thank you so much for the follows, favorites and reviews! Especially reviews, because I am dying to know what you think about the story progress, the character development, or what you are hoping to see in the next chapters. I also take constructive criticism well, if you are hesitant about writing one.**


	4. Chapter 4

Tony Stark finally gave me what I wanted. His power and his indifference. Much to my surprise, it left me with a knot of uneasiness in my stomach.

I saw the attack in Monaco on the news. I didn't call to ask if he was okay. I also saw the attack at the Stark Expo, followed by Justin Hammer's trial. Again, I didn't call him. He didn't call me either. When I needed something, it was Pepper Potts who answered the phone and made the arrangements.

In the meantime, I was fighting another battle. After it was decided that I was fully recovered from my drug addiction, I checked in the best hospital in California to get rid of the scars on my face. Contrary to my first thoughts, the physical damage was completely reversible.

Because, why not? If there was magic in this world, I could only think of one suitable name for it: Money.

At first, I thought it would be simple. You pay the best plastic surgeons, they fix you. I couldn't have been more wrong. Especially when there was no one to support me, it was a consuming process. The dental implants took days. The surgery was even worse. After the operation, it hurt like hell. The bandages were extremely uncomfortable, turning eating, talking or sleeping into a form of torture. But the worst part was the stressful waiting. My nose, which had been broken a few times, was going to be reshaped. I knew it couldn't be worse than what I looked like now, but I just wanted my old self back.

Tony knew what I was going to go through, he probably knew it wasn't going to be easy. I desperately wanted him to show up one day, with a bouquet of flowers and tell me to get well soon despite all those terrible things I had told him. But again, I was too proud to back down, so I lied on that hospital bed for hours, all alone, my face looking like a mummy's.

It eventually came to an end. They removed the bandages, and thank goodness, there were only expected bruises and swellings on my face. In a few days, I was ready to go home.

The arrangement was simple: I was still 17, so I was going to live in his mansion until I turned 18, which was only a few months away. Then I would be free to go. Ms. Potts had told me so.

It was his personal bodyguard, Hogan, who came to pick me up. He was waiting just outside the hospital, leaning on a black, shiny Rolls Royce. He was alone. I remembered him. This was the same guy who took me to the hospital for the paternity test two years ago. He took my luggage and opened the car's door for me. He was kind, respectful, but distant.

When we arrived, I received the same treatment from Ms. Potts. Although I had overheard her discussing with Tony once and spoken to her a few times on the phone, this was the first time we talked face to face. I remembered her as well. She was the one who dealt with my grandparents after Mom's funeral. Today, she was ushering me to my room. Just like Hogan, she had professional, distant manners. It was like the two were judging me for being such an ungrateful daughter. Was this also a part of Tony's psychological war against me? Maybe I was just being paranoid.

But those thoughts only occupied a small portion of my mind. The rest was busy admiring the place. It was breath-taking. Tony knew how to live, I had to give him that much credit. The mansion was a true palace fit for the 21st century and the centuries to come. My room had only been furnished with the basics—the rest was left to my taste and needs, the same had been for my clothes—yet it would still be the most beautiful place I had ever lived.

Humans' weakness for luxury was a funny thing. It could tempt anyone. Or, it was just my excuse for my own deficiency to resist.

"Is there anything else you need, Miss Stark?" Potts asked as she stood at the door.

I wanted to break the ice. This was the only way to get to know her and decide whether she was really trustworthy. "Where is he now?"

"He spends most of his time in the workshop downstairs."

"I thought you'd become the CEO. Shouldn't he have found a new assistant by now?"

"He is having trust issues after Natalie—or, Natasha… I am doing this as his girlfriend, not as his assistant." If there was someone who could talk about her boyfriend like she was talking about a business partner, it could only be Pepper Potts.

"I hope this isn't too awkward for you." I needed her to lower her guard.

"I hope the same for you."

"No, not awkward for me at all. Congratulations then, both on the promotion and the relationship."

"Thanks."

Phew. Maybe it wasn't the sincerest introduction in the history of mankind, but it wasn't so bad either.

After she left, I started unpacking. Damn, I even had my own bathroom. Should I go downstairs and thank him at least? Or would that make him think he had won the war? The emotional stir I had been through at the hospital was gone now, so I didn't feel like a helpless little girl desperate to be protected by her daddy. Remembering how I needed him back there was embarrassing, actually. I had made my attitude clear, now I had to stick to it. My confidence was back, and hopefully this time it would stay with me. After all, with Mom gone, I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I had to learn to live with it.

A mechanic, British-accented male voice interrupted my thoughts. "Welcome home, Miss Stark."

I turned around to see him, but there was no one to see. "Who is that?"

"I am JARVIS, the AI system created by Tony Stark. I run this house and Mr. Stark's other personal business."

"Right, an electronic butler."

"That's another way of putting it, Miss."

"An electronic butler with a sense of humor!" Then another fact occurred to me. JARVIS was also a surveillance system. "Are you awake 24/7, JARVIS?"

"Unless I am malfunctioning, yes."

"And how often do you malfunction?"

"So far, never." Was he proud? A computer, feeling proud of having never malfunctioned? This house was stranger than I had thought.

"So, this means you can tell him everything I do here?"

"I have very specific privacy settings, Miss Stark. I will not report any of your actions unless they pose a fatal threat to the members of the household."

"Or, unless Tony changes those settings," I mumbled to see if he could hear that, too.

Of course, he did. "Yes, Miss."

* * *

This was how I started living on the lap of luxury. Tony didn't avoid me on purpose, he nodded or say "Hey," whenever he saw me around the house, I did the same to him. Happy taught me how to drive—my mom was planning to teach me the next summer before she died—Pepper suggested to find me a school—right, there was a place called "school," I totally forgot about it—to continue my education in the next fall, but I chose homeschooling. I was too tired to handle the stress of adapting to a new social environment. I had plans for the future, so I wasn't going to waste away the summer. In my case, I mostly learned things myself, or asked JARVIS for help. After all, he was smarter than I could ever be. I met the guy in the military uniform who were standing behind Tony during the press conference, Colonel James Rhodes—or, Rhodey. He was cool. Strangely, the closest people around Tony Stark were good people, unlike Tony Stark himself. The ocean was too beautiful to resist, so I went swimming almost everyday. After all, it was summer time. And sometimes jogging along the beach, for a change and to discover Malibu. The media seemed to have forgotten about me, in the last seven months nothing significant had happened and there were always more interesting celebrity scandals to focus on.

The only thing I couldn't do was shopping, or other girly activities. Being a former model who quitted her career after pregnancy to start a fashion blog and write for fashion magazines, my mom used to be my personal stylist, she taught me how to dress, put on make up, get a cool haircut and stuff like that. Without her, I realized I couldn't even step into a store without bursting into tears. This was because I hadn't had the chance to mourn her. Everything had happened too quickly after her death. By the time I had time to think about her, I was too high to care. Now I was going through a mourning process that had been postponed for two years. Some things in life were inevitable.

I often had nightmares about the pit, or my mother. Sometimes I saw myself as an addict again, all my efforts to recover gone in vain. Or Mom accusing me of killing her father. One night, I woke up from one of those nightmares again in the dark. When that happened, JARVIS usually asked me if he should turn on the lights so that I could grab a glass of water, or go to bathroom to wash my face. This time, the entire mansion was silent.

"JARVIS," I called, still half-asleep. "Turn on the lights."

Nothing happened.

"JARVIS?" I get out of the bed, stumbling upon something in the dark.

No reply.

JARVIS was malfunctioning.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews guys! Please keep them coming, I love reading them. As for the questions about where this story goes, it will follow the original MCU plotline, with some additional characters from the comics and maybe one or two OCs. Oliva Stark is my humble attempt to add another amazing female badass character into the mix and she will get much more interesting, I promise.**


	5. Chapter 5

I wasn't sure what to do. I should probably wake Tony up, in case there was an intruder in the house. And an intruder who could disable Tony Stark's security system meant serious trouble. But maybe it was just a simple glitch. No need to embarrass myself, I thought.

Why should I help him, anyway? His house, his problem. I would soon be moving out.

* * *

In the morning, I woke up to Pepper and Tony yelling at each other in the living room. It wasn't a new thing, they constantly fought, but today it was clearly about something of extreme importance. I went downstairs to see what all the fuss was about.

"He could have killed us all, Tony! He could have killed us all in our sleep, taken away your suits and God knows whatever else you have in there! Do you realize—"

"I thought he was a smart kid."

"Oh, he _is_ a smart kid, smarter than you, obviously! He disabled your security, broke into your house and stole an Arc Reactor!"

"But he left a note with his name on it. How's that smart?"

"It wasn't a note, it was a threat! I have a feeling that this is going to be worse than the Vanko incident."

"So now it is my fault I have enemies?"

"The problem is not your enemies, Tony, it is the fact that you never take them seriously until it's too late!"

They finally noticed my presence. Tony and I ignored each other as usual—this was how we punished one another, I guess—so I turned to Pepper.

"Pepper, what's going on?"

"Someone broke into the house last night and stole an Arc Reactor."

"To build another super-suit?"

"Probably."

"Everyone's building suits these days. All I ask for is some originality," Tony complained.

"See, that's exactly what I was talking about," Pepper scolded him.

"If he shows up in a suit, I'll put on mine and kick his ass. Problem solved."

"What about the note?" I asked. "What does it say?"

Pepper handed me a small piece of paper.

_One day I will avenge my father's death. This is just the beginning.—Zeke_

"Who's Zeke?"

Pepper and Tony looked at each other for a moment. "I think I'm going to need some coffee, you tell her."

* * *

"Why does he keep doing that?" I asked after he left for the kitchen. "Coward!"

"Maybe that's because you break his heart every time you open your mouth. Honestly, I can't blame him."

"Hey, I thought you were on my side!"

"I just want to see him happy, Olivia. I knew he messed things up with you, but he's a different man now. He deserves a second chance."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, don't change the subject. Who's Zeke?"

Pepper smirked vaguely. "You know, you and Tony aren't so different, after all."

"Who's Zeke, Pepper?"

"His full name is Ezekiel… Stane."

"_Stane_?"

"He's Obadiah's son."

I collapsed on the nearest chair.

"Olivia, are you okay?" Pepper was worried about my reaction. Obadiah Stane was still a delicate subject to discuss, after all, he was the major villain in my story. Tony was irresponsible, narcissistic and reckless, but Obadiah was pure evil.

His son had been here last night. He had been here, and I had done nothing about it because of my arrogance and selfishness. Maybe I indeed resembled my father more than I wanted to. It had to be some kind of family curse.

"There's something I need to tell you," I murmured.

"What?"

"I woke up last night, it was a nightmare… I told JARVIS to turn on the lights, but he didn't respond. I thought someone might have broken into the house." I paused.

"And… What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What? You just ignored it? This is not a game, Olivia! If you had told us, maybe—"

"I'm sorry, okay? I think I wanted to cause him some trouble."

But Pepper was furious. "You two are going to get each other killed! I'm serious, you can't keep living like this!"

"Pepper, can you please tell him—"

"I'm not telling him anything! I'm not your messenger bird! I'm staying at my own place until you Starks figure this out by yourselves!"

She stormed out of the room to pack her things. Upon hearing her screams, Tony came back from his hideout and followed Pepper around like a puppy, begging her to tell him what had just happened. Pepper didn't. Soon, she was gone.

* * *

Now it was just the two of us. Shit.

"She's left because of me," I began. We would eventually have to talk with each other, anyway. The sooner, the better. "I'm sorry."

He sat on the white sofa across me, facing the front door. "Care to elaborate?" he asked softly.

I told him what had happened last night.

He remained silent after I finished explaining. It was weird and uncomfortable to speak with him like this after we ignored each other for weeks. But Pepper had brought me to my senses. She was right, we couldn't keep living like this.

"You're angry with me, aren't you?"

"I have many issues, kiddo, but anger management is not one of them."

"Then why aren't you saying something?"

"I'm trying to figure out why you hate me so much. I mean, I know I made a lot of mistakes in the past, but did you really hope someone to kill me in my sleep?"

"I don't know."

"If you did, what can I do to change that? I want you to love me, or not to hate me at least, but I've run out of ideas, honey."

"You want me to love you?" Whatever. I was going to tell him.

"Yeah?"

"You got it all wrong, Dad. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to meet you when I was a kid? I always watched my friends and their fathers with envy, imagining you and me doing the same things they did. I collected everything I found about you under my bed. I called you on the phone once, you know. I think Mom had your private number."

"You called me?"

"You actually answered."

"What did you say? I don't remember, I'm sorry."

"Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice for once. Mom grounded me for a week when she found out."

"Don't be mad at her, she was probably trying to protect you from me."

"I'm not mad at her. But my point is, I hate you because while I can be your daughter, you can never be my father. My life has always revolved around you, even when you didn't know I existed. But you never played with me, you never held my hand and took me to school, you never watched me grow up… This is how you become a father and now it's too late to go back! If I don't hate you, disappointment is going to ruin me. I hate you because you are my favorite person in the world but I'm not yours."

With everything that had happened this morning, my feelings were all over the place. I didn't even realize I was crying until he ran to me and pulled me into a hug. He wasn't going to let go off me easily.

He gently rocked me back and forth. "Now I don't know much about parenthood, but I don't think that's how it works, Olivia. Perhaps we can still make a good team. By the way, I love you, too."

I pulled myself together and wiped away my tears. "So, shall I call Pepper back?"

"Hmm, I guess poor Pep deserves a day off. Besides, I have other plans for today."

"Okay."

"They involve you, too, so go get dressed."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see soon. Come on, kiddo!" He clapped his hands and sent me to my room.

Well, at least my life wasn't boring.


	6. Chapter 6

Daddy's day out. Yay!

Considering the fact that we had had an intruder last night, the road trip was a reckless idea, but Dad was probably trying to show that he wasn't afraid.

It was a beautiful summer morning, so he was driving the top down on the smooth highway. This time I was trying to give him the real chance he always wanted. This was what I wanted as well. He lived the dangerous life of a superhero. It was no game. We had to figure things out between us before it was too late. The last thing I needed in my life was another irreversible regret. Besides, we were surrounded by predators. Together we would be stronger than when we fought each other like dogs. But I wasn't doing it for money or power this time. I just wanted my father. He was all I had left.

He asked me simple questions on our way, like if I liked it here in California, how the homeschooling was going—he even offered me to help with science and math—or which car I wanted for my 18th birthday. Instead of making up stories like I did back at the rehab, I gave him honest replies. It felt good.

We arrived at the airport, where a private jet was waiting for us on the tarmac. Now I was starting to get concerned about our destination.

"I didn't pack anything!"

"Don't worry, kid, we'll be back by the evening."

I didn't see any flight attendants around. Dad was probably planning to have an important conversation, so he didn't want anyone to disturb our privacy. The inside of the jet was fascinating. I didn't use to travel much, but now I was seriously considering a world tour. Bye-bye to flying like a canned sardine on low-cost airlines!

He disappeared for half an hour after the take-off. While he was gone, I put on my earphones and listened to some music. He came back with coffee and omelettes, which was good, because I was starving. With everything that had happened earlier this morning, I hadn't got the chance to have breakfast.

"I didn't know you could cook."

"It's perfectly safe to eat. I cooked for Pepper before and she's still alive."

I took a big sip from the coffee and dug into the omelette. To my surprise, it was actually delicious.

After the breakfast, we decided to watch _The Simpsons_ on the TV. He poured himself a drink.

"Isn't it a bit too early for that?"

"It's never too early for me. Want some?"

I rolled my eyes. Offering Scotch to a recovered drug addict, really?

"Okay, that came out wrong."

"You do realize I'm not even old enough to drink, right?" We both knew I wasn't going to be able to drink even after I was old enough. I had to be very careful for the rest of my life. But it wasn't a big deal. I never liked the taste of alcohol anyway.

"In my defense, you're more mature than most adults I know."

* * *

Four hours later, the pilot announced that we were about to land. We wore our safety belts, and I peeked out of the window to see where we were. It looked familiar, but I couldn't be sure. It had been too long.

A man standing next to a shiny black Bentley greeted us on the tarmac.

"Your car is ready, sir. Welcome to Atlanta."

Apparently, I was right. I knew exactly where we were headed. To my old town.

"You should have told me," I scolded him once we were alone in the car. "I don't want to go there."

"Why? Hiding from your ex?"

"I don't have an ex."

It was true. I wasn't interested in either boys, or girls. I had never dated. Romance, dating or sex repulsed me. I was a virgin, and I wanted to remain one for the rest of my life. But I wasn't ready to come out to my dad yet. I had had this conversation with my mom and some of my friends. It always resulted in disappointment. They said I was a late bloomer, I hadn't met the right person yet, or I was creepy.

The idea might seem appealing to a father at first, but it also meant that he would never walk me down the aisle, or have grandchildren. Pepper had told me she didn't want any kids, so the only way to ensure the future of the Stark Industries was through adoption. I hoped Dad would be okay with that. One day I would tell him, just not today.

He stopped in front of a florist's and returned to the car with a nice bouquet in his hand.

"What are you going to do?" I asked. "Announce the whole town that I'm your daughter and give me flowers in front of the City Hall?"

"Sorry, baby bird, but these are not for you."

It all made sense once we parked near the town's cemetery. He wanted to visit my mother's grave.

"Okay, kid, this is the part where I need your help." He seemed a bit embarrassed.

"You don't remember her name, do you?"

"I improvised this morning, didn't have the chance to do my homework."

I smiled. He was just trying to do something nice, and still had much to learn. "It's okay, I don't remember where her grave is." I hadn't come here since the funeral. Now that day seemed like a lifetime ago. Honestly, I hadn't thought I would be able to visit her again.

We walked around the graveyard for at least a good ten minutes and finally found the tombstone with her name on it.

_Amy Winters 1972-2007_

_Beloved Mother_

I never believed the dead could hear us, but I felt like I had to say something. "Hello, Mom. Look who I've brought here."

Dad silently put the flowers on her grave. He probably didn't believe she could hear us either. Maybe we should be talking to each other instead. "She loved you, you know. She never dated anyone else as far as I remember."

"Honey, I need you to know something. I might have been a jerk, but I never gave women any false hopes to sleep with them. They knew what they got themselves into."

"I believe you. It was just… Mom was a hopeless romantic. She was a good mother, and I adored her, but I was well aware of the fact that her obsession with you was unhealthy. She believed you two shared a connection through me while you didn't even know I existed." A polite way of saying she was a crazy stalker.

"And we do. She will always have my respect for having raised such a wonderful young lady."

"Thanks, Dad. Now can we leave before someone sees us?"

"As you like, kid."

I touched her tombstone, tracing her carved name with my fingers one last time before we left.

On our way back, he asked me why I didn't want to see anyone from my previous life.

"I don't know, Dad. But I'm not ashamed of you, if this is what you want to know," I answered.

The truth was, I really didn't know. Introducing myself to new people as Olivia Stark was okay. But transforming from Liv Winters to Olivia Stark was something else entirely. Maybe it was guilt. Liv was innocent. Olivia wasn't. Olivia had killed young girls like her to survive. She felt no regret. She had no boundaries.

On our way back to California, we discussed our tastes in music. He introduced me to Black Sabbath, AC/DC and Queen. I didn't have a specific taste on music. When I was young, I listened to whatever was popular on those days. Nowadays, I was listening to black metal or metal-core to pour my feelings out. By feelings, I mean rage and hatred, of course. To calm down, I listened to classical music. I was so inconsistent. Dad promised to share his entire archive with me. Maybe that could help me figure out what I really enjoyed.

* * *

When we were back home, I took a quick shower to relax while Dad worked on improving the security. Thankfully, JARVIS was still awake and he informed us that no one had attempted to break in while we were gone.

I heard my phone ringing while drying my hair. A call from an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Miss Stark. I believe we haven't been properly introduced."

I didn't have to guess. "Zeke."

"Very good, Olivia. I feared all those drugs and fights left a permanent damage on your brain, but... You're good. Now this is going to be more fun than I thought. By the way, I know about your little road trip today. Enjoy your reunion with your father while you still can." Gods, his voice sickened me.

"Is this your great idea of vengeance? Being my stalker? And here I was, expecting a challenge…"

"You're such a daddy's little girl."

"I would return the compliment, but in your case it would be an insult, I fear."

"Do you really believe your father is any better than mine, Olivia?"

"All I know is, if you even try to hurt him, I'll unleash hell upon you myself."

"You have earned my respect, Miss Stark. Really, you have this typical Stark fire burning inside you. Now I believe I owe you the truth."

"What truth?"

"The truth about your mother's death, of course. Would you like to hear it?"

Don't fall for it, I reminded myself. He was just provoking me.

"I take your silence as a yes. My father arranged it, Olivia. He was keeping a close eye on the women Tony slept with, in case of an… unexpected heir. He knew about you all along. And when the right time came, he killed her."

"What you say doesn't make any sense. Why would he want my father to find out about me?"

"Because he had greater plans for you. You see, he had a son, Tony had a daughter. He could have killed you. But legally, he had no claim over the Stark property. Why do you think he didn't kill you while he could?"

"Bullshit!"

"After Tony's death, I was going to save you from the human traffickers. You would look like hell of course, with all those ugly scars and other deformations, but I was going to fall in love with you anyway. We would get married, and I would be a hero in people's eyes. You would give me two, maybe three children just to make sure. Unfortunately, women die during childbirth all the time. What a tragedy…"

"You're sick…"

"Don't get me wrong, it wasn't my plan. I'm actually glad it didn't work out. I have a girlfriend and she wasn't happy about it, believe me."

"I swear I'm—"

He hung up.

I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to say. It could be true, or it could be something he made up just to piss me off. I reminded myself to calm down before doing something stupid. Maybe I could talk to my dad. He could help me calm down. I was heading to downstairs to tell him what had happened, but I heard him talking on the phone with Pepper. He was telling her we had worked things out between us and assuring her that the mansion was safer than the Pentagon. He had only "played it cool" in the morning because he didn't want to scare me (According to Dad, I freaked out every time Stane's name was mentioned). He said he had had a great time with me today and now all he needed was her. He sounded so cheerful. I returned to my room to give him some privacy.

Zeke's wrong, I thought to myself as I slipped into my queen size bed. He was better than an Iron Monger. He was the hero I had imagined him to be when I was a kid. I, too, had had a great time today. And no one could take that away from me. I wasn't going to lose another parent to another Stane. I drifted off while my mind worked on countless strategies to destroy Zeke.

* * *

**A/N: So... There are two important twists in this chapter. One was about Olivia's future (And yep, her orientation is permanent, so she will have no romantic interests. Sorry, but I think she is more interesting this way) and her mother's death. Any thoughts?**


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Pepper returned home. She wasn't even surprised when she caught us talking and laughing in the living room, as if she had been planning this all along. Then Rhodey stopped by—Pepper had told him about Zeke—and he, too, complained Dad being too confident. He told him to start a search for the lost Arc Reactor. When Dad refused, they started arguing. It got loud, Rhodey left the mansion angrily, saying he expected at least a little appreciation for his efforts to protect him, and Dad retreated to his workshop in frustration. Pepper had already began typing away on her laptop. On Sundays, she worked from home. I headed to the gym. My conversation with Zeke last night had left me angry. Jogging or swimming wouldn't be enough to let off the steam.

"JARVIS, give me everything on Ezekiel Stane," I said as I began hitting the punching bag with my bare hands.

"As you wish, Miss. Initiating inquiry… Inquiry complete. Ezekiel Stane was born in 1989, his father Obadiah Stane, his mother…"

The more JARVIS talked, the harder I punched. My hands began aching, I should probably have been wearing gloves, but what kind of idiot would wear gloves in a real fight?

JARVIS kept speaking. Zeke was a genius, just like my dad. He had graduated from MIT at age 19, he had a degree in bio-engineering, physics , mathematics, and business. The number of prizes he had won were more than I could count. How was I supposed to outsmart him while I couldn't even solve quadratic equations? And let's suppose I somehow did, what would happen when people realized I couldn't create inventions like my father and grandfather? I had to make up for it in some other way.

* * *

"Business," I told Pepper that evening. Gods, she was still working. Was I going to be as busy as her if I chose this path? "I think I should study business at university."

She stopped typing and looked at me. "That would be a good choice if you want to take over the company. But are you sure you want to sign up for this? When you become the CEO, your job becomes your life. You see how busy I am."

"I got nothing better to do," I shrugged. "I don't fear the responsibility. I'm just afraid of messing things up."

"Don't worry, you'll learn."

"Also, I was thinking… Maybe you can teach me. I can work part-time as your assistant, you know?"

"First, you have to get your high-school degree."

"Of course."

"Actually, I could use an assistant to help me with the things in New York. We're planning to build a tower, a prototype of self-sustained energy using the Arc Reactor. I could travel less if I had someone I trusted there."

"Then I must find a school in New York. Do you think I can get accepted to an Ivy League school?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"With my scandalous background and all…"

"Olivia, you're the future of the Stark Industries. They must be fools not to accept you."

"You aren't mad at me, are you?"

"No. Why?"

"It's your company, after all."

She smiled. "You very well know why Tony put me there. I'm just worried about him. The last time he and Rhodey fought, Rhodey left with one of his suits."

"Should I talk to him?"

"Yeah, I think he should hear about your plans as well. It'll be a better distraction than tinkering his armors."

I took a deep breath as I descended the stairs to the basement. This was the first time I had been in Dad's workshop. Truth to be told, I wanted to see the Iron Man suits. I wasn't a science geek or anything, but it was a strange feeling to know that the most advanced technology in the world was lying in your basement.

I could already hear the music blasting. I was surprised to run into a glass wall, after all, this was his most private room—okay, maybe the second most private—but then, how many people were allowed in the mansion anyway?

The door was locked, and I didn't have the code, so I tapped on the glass to get his attention. Was he working on another suit? How many of them did he already have? He noticed me and opened the door with a smile on his face, but I could tell he was still upset about Rhodey.

"Hey, Dad. How are you doing? You were gone all day, we were worried about you."

"Oh, I've lost track of time. Come inside."

I took a look around. Most of his stuff didn't make any sense to me, but the suit displays drew me like a magnet. Currently, there were four of them.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Dad put his hands on my shoulders.

"Which one?" I asked. "Which one did use to fight Obadiah?"

"You just can't let it go, can you?"

"I'm vindictive, sue me."

"This one," he pointed with his finger. "Mark III."

"Did he suffer?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good."

"Speaking of, I have a question for you. Let's sit down for a minute."

I pulled a chair and sat down. He gave me a pack of ice from the fridge and sat across me. He had seen my red knuckles. They were still hurting and the cold felt good. Working out without boxing gloves was a stupid idea. Now he was going to think I had self-harming tendencies.

He crossed his arms and stared at me. "When were you going to tell me that Zeke called you last night? Or were you, at all?"

I pursed my lips angrily. "Screw you, JARVIS!"

"Noted, Miss Stark." JARVIS said.

"I'm still waiting for my answer."

"It was too embarrassing. Not the fact that I was merely a breeder in Obadiah's eyes, but also his intentions can still shock me after two years in hell."

"I don't understand."

"The spectators sometimes demanded to hook up with the girls. They were bribed with extra drugs, so they agreed, but I said they had to kill me before I let that happen. I wasn't forced. Joe, in fact, always protected me from those demands. I always thought they didn't force us because we were raised to be wild and they didn't want to put the clients at danger. Or for some reason I was like a sister to Joe. But now I think about it… Maybe it was Obadiah's orders. Or his men's, he was never in direct contact with them to keep my identity hidden. He didn't want a trauma that might have caused me to avoid men for the rest of my life, because he needed me to fall in love with Zeke, and give him grandchildren who would probably be geniuses like you. While I thought I was lucky…"

"You know what, I love it when you're honest with me."

I chuckled. "I have no reason to lie."

"Actually, I was going to ask Pepper to talk to you about this. You two seem to get along pretty well and I figured you'd be more comfortable with her, but now while the genie is out of the bottle… I couldn't believe my eyes when the medical report said there was no sign of sexual abuse. I mean, they were fine fighting underage girls, drug them, or even kill them… But prostitution was somehow out of limits? Didn't make any sense back then."

Oh, of course the doctors must have examined me while I was unconscious.

"I didn't demand the examination, it was a standard procedure," he explained when he misinterpreted my expression.

I shrugged. "It's okay. But I have a question for you, too."

"Yeah?"

"What are you planning to do about Zeke? Don't tell me you don't have a plan, like you tell the others, because I know you do. You're not as reckless as everyone thinks."

"Okay, you've caught me. I had a plan to face him alone, without getting any of you involved. That was until two hours ago."

"What changed in two hours?"

"Look around, what do you see?"

"I don't know. A lot of things?"

"Exactly! This is candy-land for an engineer. Yet, he took one thing. Only one thing. Why?"

"Why?"

"Because he has two things to prove: Number one, His genius to me. He disabled JARVIS. He broke into my house. Number two, he wants to prove himself better than his own father. Obadiah's last action was to steal the reactor, and he couldn't get away with it. Zeke wants to show he can. He doesn't have time for a long-term plan and he can't do anything any time soon. He's angry, he's arrogant, and he's about to die."

"What do you mean he's about to die?"

"I told JARVIS not to tell you, but I found some medical reports. Cancer. Stage four. He has refused the treatment. Now he's trying to provoke me. When people are angry, they make mistakes. Usually in public. If I don't give him anything, we'll soon get rid of him."

"What if it's a trap? What if he planted those reports for you to find?"

"That's why I haven't told Pep and Rhodey yet. But most probably that's not the case. Also, I tracked down the energy signal of the Arc Reactor. There's no sign of it. He must have destroyed it when he realized he didn't have enough time and energy to build an armor."

He was right. I remembered Zeke saying something about my father not being any better than his. It was a comparison. A demonstration. It was all about public opinion. The only way to defeat Zeke was through destroying the Stane legacy. And I had just got the perfect idea. A farewell gift to the last Stane.

"Dad, I actually came here to ask you about something else. I think it's time for me to reveal myself to the public."

"Are you sure about this? Because once the spotlights are on you, there will be no turning back."

"You can't keep me hidden forever. And I want this, I'm 100% sure."

"Fine. Your life, your choice. How do you want to do that? I say, let's celebrate your birthday with a party."

A birthday part sounded like a good idea, but it was also a bit narcissistic. I needed more sympathy. It would also be a good public image in the future, especially while applying to university. _Philanthropist_ sounded much better than _recovered drug addict_. "Actually, I was thinking about a charity event. I want to do something for the victims of human trafficking like me."

"Baby, I couldn't be more proud."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Why don't we do both? This is your first birthday with us and I want to celebrate it. Please?"

He looked so enthusiastic that I would hate to break his heart. "Okay, Dad. As you wish. Do you think we can organize it within two weeks?"

"Back in the day, I organized parties in less than 3 hours, kiddo. Well, in actual fact, I told Pepper to organize them, but whatever, you got the idea."

Hell, I was good at improvising. While I had no idea how to deal with Zeke in the morning, now I had answers for all of the questions in my head. The discussion about Ivy League schools and business degrees had to wait, though. I didn't want to overburden him. Pepper would probably tell him, anyway.

"Oh, and one more thing, Rocky. If you're going to keep punching things, I'll tell Happy to train you properly before you break your hand."

* * *

**A/N: Dear Anonymous, I tried to come up with some explanations for your questions. I hope they make sense... Obadiah seemed to me like a character who wouldn't mind hiding in the shadows while his son runs everything, at least before the emergence of the suits, but of course, this is my interpretation of him. It might be wrong. Anyway, I'm always grateful to all kinds of reviews, so thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

"So, you're not nervous? Not at all?"

"No."

He lowered his guard while giving me a puzzled, unconvinced stare and I threw a light punch on his face, taking advantage of his distraction. "Stay focused, Dad!"

"She's right," Happy commented from the corner.

"All I'm saying is," he covered his face, bent his knees and readied himself for a counter-punch in case of a second attack from me. "A little bit of excitement is natural. And healthy."

"Compared to fighting for your life in front of a bunch of sick pervs, a fund-raiser is nothing." This time I threw a punch with my left fist to catch him unprepared, but he dodged it. Damn, he was good.

"It's also your birthday party. You'll be the center of attention. I have a hunch that you and I differ in that department."

"Let's just say I don't give a shit."

"Tony." Rhodey was standing just outside the gym door. This was the first time he had been in the mansion since their latest fight.

"Well, well, well… The prodigal son has returned." He took off his gloves.

I leaned on the edge of the ring. "Hey, War Machine! Wanna go for a few rounds?"

"Really, Tony? You let her do boxing now?"

"There's a difference between a human cockfight and sparring, you know? And I'm not going to spend my life cowering under a rock," I defended my father.

"Can I have a word with you?" Rhodey ignored me and asked him.

"Okay, buddy."

Happy clapped his hands. "Olivia, to the bag!" Training me was his new project and he was excited about it more than anybody else. I jumped out of the ring.

"Come on, let me see your stance."

I showed him my stance. He corrected my knees, feet and elbows. "Yeah, much better. Now punch!"

I punched.

"Not bad. Keep going, we need to change your old habits."

"Am I improving?"

"Of course you do! God, two weeks ago your punches were going to give me a heart attack!"

"Do you realize those punches saved my life more than I could count?"

"They might have worked against skinny girls like you, but you'll want to have a proper technique when you face a brawny dude."

"Hopefully it will never come to that."

"And more muscles. Remember to take more protein and do your push-ups. Oh, and also sit-ups!"

"Ugh, I hate sit-ups!"

"You and your dad are such crybabies!"

"Speaking of, what do you think they're talking about?"

"I don't know. Rhodey probably has an excuse for not attending to your party tomorrow, and Tony's trying to convince him."

I abruptly stopped practicing and took off my gloves. "You know what, I'm going to listen!"

"Hey! We're not done yet!"

"Sorry, Happy. I can't help myself!" I ran to the living room tiptoeing.

_"No, this is not just about Zeke, it's also about Olivia."_

_"I thought you liked Olivia?"_

_"I like her, I mean, none of this is her fault, but… She's unstable, Tony. She's like a time bomb. And I think you're spoiling her."_

_"She's not crazy."_

_"Just try to remember what she was like when you found her. She happily let her grandfather die, you told me. For God's sake, Tony, only a couple of weeks ago you locked your door at night because you were afraid she'd strangle you in your sleep! Now suddenly you're best friends? What's next, are you going to give her one of your suits?"_

_"Why does this bother you so much?"_

I coughed to get their attention._ Busted!_ "It's okay, Dad. If he doesn't feel comfortable around me, we can't force him to be."

"Olivia, I didn't mean—"

I raised my hand. "You're my father's friend, Rhodes, not mine. And you don't have to be." I turned to my dad. "Tomorrow will be a long day. I think I better rest well tonight. Please don't disturb me, will you?"

"Yeah, kid, sure," he mumbled.

I took a long shower, then slipped into my PJs and lied on my bed. But the thoughts on my mind didn't let me fall asleep. Did I really want people to be afraid of me? Yeah, but not to be treated like a pathological case that needed to be approached carefully. I didn't want to make people walk on eggshells around me. With who I was now, they didn't see a strong, independent, promising young business woman. They saw a nutcase. I had to set a balance. But how?

* * *

The fund-raiser—or, my birthday part, whatever you call it—was a success. At least, that was what I thought at first. It took place in the same venue which was used for all Stark charity events, and Pepper insisted on organizing everything. I wanted to do it myself, to show Pepper, my future boss, how capable I was. But she said my introduction to the world was too important to be used to be risked to gain experience. I was offended a bit, but at the same time I very well knew she was right. Pepper also advised me not to reveal too much about myself and preserve the element of mystery. She introduced me to her important business contacts that evening, and implied that they would be seeing me more often in the near future. She introduced me to some influential journalists as well. I agreed to give an interview to _Vanity Fair_. Despite what had happened yesterday, Rhodey, too, attended to the party and gave me an expensive, elegant watch as a birthday gift. Dad had bought me a black Lamborghini. I said it was a bit too much as my first car, but he insisted that I would need to travel fast and often if I worked for Pepper in New York while studying—of course Pepper had told him—and Pepper's gift was a mansion that belonged to Howard Stark. After he married Maria, she used it as a museum. It had been sealed since their death. It was in New York, so Pepper had thought I might want to stay there instead of buying a new house or living in a dorm room. Now the building was being restored. It was a very original and considerate present, but why was everyone already taking this New York thing for granted? What if I didn't get accepted to a college?

Pepper wasn't very happy about the reporter who was going to interview with me, though. Christine Everheart. She told me to be very careful with her. From what she said, I understood she was an ambitious, pushy, crazy bitch. But again, Pepper could be exaggerating a bit because Christine had slept with Dad. Tomorrow, I was going to see if she was right.

* * *

The next day, while waiting for Christine to arrive in the living room, I checked out the photos from last night. Gods, they were everywhere. It wasn't a surprise, though, I had thought I would go blind because of the flashes the moment I stepped out of the car with Dad. I had put a lot of effort on my appearance, and I was pleased with the results. In my white, V-neck skater dress, looked exactly like what a Stark heiress was supposed to look like. Strong. Confident. Impossible to harm. The few stitches left on my body had been covered with concealer, and my hair, which reached down to my shoulders now, had been tied into a messy ponytail. I was wearing only a piece of silver earrings and a silver necklace as jewelry, anything more extravagant than that would have been too much for my age, according to Pepper. Similarly, I had kept the make-up at minimum. I had gone a bit overboard with my silver stilettos, though. My feet still hurt, but I had to learn to walk in heels. With my father's dark hair and my mother's hazel eyes, I might have looked plain, but no one had to look plain with the right name and style.

Some comments about me on the internet were extremely disturbing. I soon stopped reading them. I didn't have to know people's disgusting sexual fantasies about me. I wished there was a way to look strong without looking attractive, but it was impossible. If I made myself look ugly, people would consider it another weakness. I could learn to tolerate people's wild thoughts as long as they kept their hands off my body.

In most of the pictures, I stood next to my father, but I didn't look like I was dependent on him. Good. Maybe, just like him, I had a natural talent in public appearance. I didn't have to like it to be a powerful, charismatic, inspiring figure. I just had to know how to pretend like I enjoyed it.

The bell rang and I saw Ms. Everheart standing at the door. I greeted her myself. Pep was at work, and Dad was out for something, I didn't know what.

She came in without asking and made herself comfortable as if this was her place. Then she started her questions with asking about my background. Who my mother was, what she was like, at what age I found out about my father, why she might have kept me hidden from him, etc. Then she asked me what happened after her death. This was what I had been prepared for. I told Ms. Everheart everything. Obadiah, the fighting ring, the drugs, even Zeke and his threats. I only hid the fact that he stole an Arc Reactor. It would make my dad look weak. People might have panicked if they found out. Also, I didn't talk about Zeke's illness. I didn't want people to feel sympathy for him. And finally, what I had done to my grandparents. Vengeance would contradict with my philanthropic image. I certainly didn't want that.

"For a teenager, you're rather bold, Miss Stark," she commented. "Aren't you afraid of how Ezekiel Stane might respond to this interview?"

"This is the Stark legacy. My father, and grandfather can be called many things, but not liars. While authorities tried to feed people with convenient lies, they always gave people the truth. Because they had nothing to fear. I'll do the same."

"So, you trust your father to protect you?"

Bitch was a master of distorting people's words. "Of course I trust him, he's my father. Iron Man or not, he will always be my hero. But more importantly, I trust myself."

I thought she would be done with me after asking about my plans for the future, but she wasn't. She started pushing my limits by asking questions about the relationship between my parents and if Pepper was now replacing the missing mother figure in my life. She was probably jealous of Pepper and taking it out on me. What was she thinking, just because she had spent one night here, she would be the lady of the house?

I told her the question was too private and refused to answer. But she didn't give up. Bitch.

"Ms. Everheart, I think we're done here."

"You can at least confess that Tony's insensitivity about your mother bothers you. There's no harm in that. We all know he's not exactly Mr. Righteous."

"First of all, please stop addressing my father with his first name. He's no friend of yours. Secondly, no, you're not a mind-reader. And thirdly, just because he slept with you for one time, it doesn't mean you can pretend to know him better than I do. Now please leave. Hopefully, I don't need to show you the way out, as I believe it's the part of this house you know the best."

She bit her lip angrily and her face was flushed. I didn't care, she had that coming. Remembering what Pepper had told me about the morning they met, I walked to a restricted section of the house and dialed the code to prove my point.

"Access granted," JARVIS said and I slammed the door, leaving her behind. This was my place, not hers.

* * *

I was satisfied with my witty comeback, but Pepper wasn't. I told her all about it after the dinner while Dad wasn't around. He didn't have to know the fights I had with his exes.

"I told you to be careful with her, Olivia," she said.

"What was I supposed to do? Let her disrespect my mother's memory? If I had let this one dig her past,others would have followed. Now they will know better than pushing my limits."

She sighed. "I hope you won't regret it. You're not the only one who's vindictive."

"I'm Olivia Stark. I'm not afraid of anyone."

* * *

Unfortunately, Pepper turned out to be right, as always. After interviewing with me, Christine had reached to my grandmother, too. She had told Christine her side of the story. People were questioning my sincerity. The rivals of the Stark Industries were now financially supporting Alice and her husband for publicity. So much for my vengeance.

"_Is the Heiress Really Who She Claims to Be?"_ was the title of her article.

"Damn it," I muttered as I threw the new issue of _Vanity Fair_ on the coffee table. Pepper took it.

"Come on, Pep, say it."

"I told you so."

"Thanks."

"You should be more careful the next time."

"What next time? I'm totally screwed!"

"This is not the end. Yes, it's bad, but we can fix it. But like I said, you can't afford to be so reckless again."

"My dad can."

"Yeah, but you're not Tony."

"You're right. I'm not."


	9. Chapter 9

To prove Christine Everheart wrong and show that my concern was genuine, I attended to panels, volunteered at the rehab and gave other interviews. Some I convinced, others remained skeptical. The truth was, I didn't care about anyone. I had saved myself, and got help from no one except my father, whose only contribution was to pay the bills at that time. But if I was going to run the company, I needed people to like me. Unlike Dad, who was a genius, I needed others to work for me, invent things for me. Who would want to work for an asshole?

Months passed. In the meantime, Dad went on countless missions, mostly in Middle East, I got my high school degree—with my dad's help with the projects, earlier than I had expected—applied to a few colleges in New York, got accepted to an Ivy League school (Yay!) and started to work in the company as Pepper's personal assistant. Soon, Dad started to complain about feeling like in a concentration camp in his own house, because Pep and I mostly talked business. Nevertheless, I knew he was proud of how much I had achieved since he saved me.

That evening, Pepper and I stayed until 09.00 PM because we had to decide which interior design we would choose for the Stark Tower in New York. The best architecture companies around the world had lined up for this job and had sent us their ideas for the designs. The construction was soon going to begin, and I was going to be there everyday to make sure they followed Pepper's—I called her Ms. Potts at work—orders.

On our way back, I suggested to drive her car because she was reading the news on her tablet.

"You know what, I honestly didn't expect you to be such a good assistant," she confessed.

"Why?" For some reason, I couldn't convince people that I was capable of being decent.

"You're very much like Tony. At least, that was what I thought at first."

"Well, we both know I can't afford to be as careless as him. I still keep that certain issue of _Vanity Fair_ to remember that."

"It's not just that… You're so unexpectedly self-disciplined. Maybe I should've know it after the doctors at the rehab told us after your recovery, but, you certainly didn't get that from Tony. Was it your mother?"

I looked at her. She had never talked about my mother before.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" she warned me. She was right, it was already dark and I had to drive more carefully even thought there were no other cars around.

"No," I said. "My mom was overly obsessed with a man who didn't even remember her name, but she wasn't a control freak. It's just me."

"I didn't say you were a control freak."

"Yeah, because you're extremely nice. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm a control freak, and I'm okay with it. So don't worry."

I was glad she never asked me why. It was a private thing. When I was a little girl, I secretly blamed myself for our isolation. I thought my father and grandparents would forgive me if I was good enough. Straight A's. Cheerleading. Volunteering in school activities. Your typical overly-ambitious teenage girl. It was too late to change those habits when I realized why the rest of our family had left us had nothing to do with my achievements. The past wasn't as glorious as I chose to remember.

Today, I was doing the same things, only on a bigger scale. This time, it wasn't for others, though. This time it was to distract myself from a certain past and protect from a certain future.

"What's that?" I showed Pepper a bright dot in the sky approaching.

"Tony, maybe he wants to surprise us?"

But my instincts were telling me that it was more than a pleasant surprise. "Call him," I said.

"Okay." Pepper called Dad and put him on the speakers.

"Good evening ladies," he began. "What, have you decided to have a sleepover at work or something?"

"No, we're coming home," I said.

"Good to know."

"Tony, where are you right now?"

"Home. Why? What did I do this time?"

"There's something following us, something like a suit. We thought it was you."

"Hold on a sec." He wasn't joking anymore.

"Pep!"

"Yeah?"

"The lost Arc Reactor is back on! That's Zeke."

"What? What are we supposed to do?"

"Who's driving?"

"I am."

"Drive faster! I'm on my way!"

"How much faster?"

"Push the damn car's limits!"

Shit! I wasn't exactly a seasoned driver yet, and I was even less experienced driving at night. If we weren't going to die at Zeke's hands, we were going to die in a car crash.

Nevertheless, I hit the gas and tried not to think. It was my instincts which told me we were in danger, maybe they could save my life again. But Dad was constantly speaking, giving me instructions and assuring Pepper.

"Dad, shut up!" I finally roared. Pepper turned off the speakers and kept speaking with him privately. I focused on the road. Thankfully, I knew it well. That was my only advantage.

The bright dot in the sky was approaching. Why was I feeling exactly like how I used to feel before a fight? Why was I still scared, after facing death so many times? Even in the worst scenario, this was better than what Obadiah had done. A quick, clean death instead of an endless months of torture. But it was different now. I had a father whom I couldn't leave behind. I was also responsible for the woman he loved. Thus, I had to fight for my life once again. Giving up or freaking out wasn't an option. Soon, Zeke was on the roof.

"Shake him off!" Pepper yelled, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Tony, hurry up!" But she dropped the phone when I took a sharp turn, and we heard it crack.

"What do you think I'm doing?" I went left and right to make him loosen his grasp. It finally worked, but he kept coming for us. Now, a suit in front of the windshield blocked my sight. But I couldn't stop. The only thing that kept us alive right now was being in a constant motion.

Zeke's suit was very different than Dad's. It had rounder lines, and was painted in black and red. The Arc Reactor was glowing inside a rectangular opening in his chest.

"Do you have a gun?" I asked Pepper. A gun wouldn't be enough, but it could hold him up until Dad arrived while if I shot the Arc Reactor.

"Gun? No!"

"Why on earth you don't have one? You're the freaking the CEO of the Stark Industries! Did you think your job would be safe?"

"Do you even know how to fire a gun?"

"Happy taught me."

"I need to have a word with him!"

"Do we really have to discuss it now? I'm kind of busy—" I must have hit something, like a rock or the barriers, because we suddenly stopped. The suit had protected us from the impact of the crash, but it still looked intact. Zeke raised his head—I wished I could see his expression right now—pushed the car away angrily so that he could move, and started walking towards us.

"Should we stay inside?" Pepper asked.

"I don't think it'll make a difference, Pep," I whispered. We couldn't escape him if we ran on foot, but I doubted the car would be enough to protect us either.

Fortunately, we didn't have to make a choice. As he approached, another suit came from the right so fast that they were both out of sight in a second. We got out of the car and saw them fighting in a distance, yet still not too far. Zeke was trying to lure him back here and Dad was trying to take the fight to another place. He was unsuccessful. Zeke was arrogant and hot-tempered to be easily distracted, but he was still a good fighter.

I had never seen him fight up close. I had thought that would make me proud, but I actually feared for his life. Had I feared for mine like this just a few minutes ago, I couldn't remember. Had I feared while fighting the girls, I didn't remember that either. Watching a fight was very different than being in one. But tonight's near-death experience had triggered something in me. Something I had buried deep inside. I was forcing myself to look strong. I hated self-victimization. I hated any form of weakness.

Dad eventually pulled the Arc Reactor out of Zeke's chest and he hit the ground like a lifeless puppet. He stood still beside him.

"Tony?" Pepper asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Do you think you're one with your suit?" I hear Zeke scoff weakly inside his helmet. "You don't have what it takes, Tony."

Dad got out of his own suit, looking troubled. "He's dead."

"What?" Pepper snapped. "You just destroyed the reactor, you didn't kill him!"

"As a matter of fact, I did. That reactor didn't only powered his suit. It also kept him alive."

"Like yours... So he was indeed sick like you suspected!"

"No, not like mine. Mine keeps the electromagnet going. This... This is different. He had created a life force with it. Something no scientist has achieved yet. What you see isn't just an armor, it's a bio-mechanical modification. What he said was true, this is what it really like to become one with the suit."

"I better call S.H.I.E.L.D. Someone has to deal with the body. And your lawyers. Olivia, do you still have your phone with you, mine was broken."

"Yeah, I guess so." I found my purse in the car and gave my phone to Pepper. I went to Dad, who was still examining Zeke thoughtfully. Something was wrong.

"Do you regret killing him?"

"No. It's not hard to make a choice between the people you can't live without and the person who wants to kill them. Sorry kid, I knew you had questions for him." He pulled me into a hug. That moment, I realized 18, or 80, he still saw a baby when he looked at me. And he was right, I wanted to ask Zeke if what he had said about my mom's death was true. Now I would never know the truth.

"It's okay," I said. "I'm just glad that you're alive."

"Olivia," he whispered. Pepper was still away. "Last time, you kept the secret I gave you quiet well. Can I trust you with another one?"

"Sure." I hadn't told anyone about Zeke's sickness until Dad decided that it was absolutely true. Now, whatever this new secret was, it bothered him since he killed Zeke.

"I don't think he was working alone."

"Why?"

"Look at the material he used for the suit, Olivia. This stuff is expensive. And he lost everything he had after Obadiah's death. He can't even get his hand on the titanium without help."

He had a point. "And, if he had been sick, he needed someone to take care of him, right?"

"Exactly. Now, I'm telling you this because I want you to postpone the New York thing for a while."

"Dad, no! Don't ask me to do this!" I was angry, but I managed to keep my voice down.

"Only for a year, baby, please."

"No, Dad. The two years of my life was stolen and now I have chance to get back one of these years. Why do you think I rushed to earn my high school degree?"

"That was what I feared. I guess I'll just have to hurry up and find them before the baby bird leaves the nest." He had nothing to fear, actually. He could have just refused to pay the tuition. But he had respected my choice and that was why I loved him so much.

But there was someone else behind this. Someone who helped Ezekiel Stane. And they would soon regret it.

* * *

**A/N: Okay guys, so I hope this story isn't getting boring! I'm planning to tie it up to the Avengers movie at the end of the next chapter! It will take some time, though, because I'm going on a vacation with friends and family next week and they don't know I'm a fan fiction writer. I want to keep it that way. Wish me luck, and please leave a review if it isn't too much trouble for you.**


	10. Chapter 10

Nothing was the same after Zeke's death. At first I thought Dad felt guilty about having killed him—he was only a few years older than me, after all, and my dad had a soft spot for the young ones—but perhaps he just didn't want to send me away while an unknown threat was still lurking out there.

A week before the registration day, Dad and I went to New York. Pepper couldn't make it, but she gave me a long to-do list before I left. Dad and I took the jet, but as always, he brought one of his suits with him, just in case. He was coming with me to set up JARVIS in the mansion.

The mansion was one of the earliest properties of Howard Stark. He had first used it for his "private affairs," then it had become an accommodation for the SSR agent, Peggy Carter—also, the co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. along with Howard—and her friend Angie Martinelli for some time. Maria Stark had turned the mansion into a museum. Being a total anti-nostalgia futurist, Dad had sealed it after his parents' death and never taken care of it. Now this building was the first property I officially owned. And it was too beautiful to be left to rot. Also, staying in a dorm wasn't an option for me. After living in the same filthy room with half a dozen of junkies for two years, I now appreciated my privacy, thank you very much.

Dad and I spent the last days before my classes began wandering around New York and having a great time. On our last day together, we were going to attend to a reception given by the school for the new students and their families. As usual, we dressed up all fancy and took my Lamborghini; this time I let him drive, because I hated driving in high-heels. I always kept a pair of flats in the car, but I was damn sure the press would be there and I didn't want them to see me changing my shoes. I knew a lot of women did it, but I wanted to look perfect tonight, like a goddess with no flaws. This was my second most important occasion after the fund-raiser birthday party.

"Dad, can I ask you something? But please don't get me wrong," I said with a tense smile on my face as we entered the reception hall at the campus.

"Spill it out, kid."

"Don't do anything to embarrass me, okay? This is kind of important."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to give them a striptease."

I rolled my eyes. "I was asking you just to be nice to them. I mean, this is a great opportunity, I should start building a network already."

"Honey, can you stop thinking of business, like, you know, half an hour?"

Why was he doing this? Any other dad would be proud of having such a responsible kid right now.

"Okay, okay," he added. "I'll behave, but you'll do all the talking."

"Gladly."

We weren't the only people with influence here. But that was the whole point of the Ivy League, I guessed. I introduced myself to some people while Dad was headed straight to the bar—Pepper had given me the names—but it didn't turn out to be as I expected. They looked down on me as I was something inferior, broken, or damaged. They pretended to be kind, considerate and civilized, but deep inside, they were just wild predators, pretending I was the only savage among them.

_"So, which high school did you graduate from? Oh, you were home-schooled? What a shame!"_

_ "I've heard about your misfortune, Miss Stark. Are you still seeing a professional? I can recommend an excellent therapist if you're looking for one…"_

_ "Don't worry, college can still be fun without alcohol or drugs!"_

I had thought I could handle these arrogant idiots. But I just froze. Once again, I realized I knew nothing about the world. They had no respect to me while my father wasn't around. Even after following a careful strategy to build up a reputation of my own, I still meant nothing to people.

I gave up, because if I kept doing this, I was going to burst into tears. I excused myself and went to the restroom. I had thought only some people, like my grandparents or Obadiah Stane were cruel, but people were all the same. They all loved turning each other's life into a living hell for no apparent reason.

Staying in the restroom for more than five minutes might cause someone to suspect. I left, but I wasn't ready to rejoin the crowd yet. So I went out to the balcony instead. Luckily, I was alone. Everyone could need some fresh air, after all; you didn't necessarily have to be feeling bad.

Dad approached me with a nearly finished drink in his hands. He was playing it cool, but I was damn sure he wanted to punch a few people in the face back there. I wanted to do the same.

He leaned on the fences. "So much for the networking, huh?"

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" It was a silly question to ask. He must have figured out these guys before I was even born.

"Do you remember what I told you before you sent your application form?"

"Be careful what you wish for."

"Yeah."

"You could've been less obscure!"

"Some things in life you just have to see for yourself, kid. Come on, let's get out of here."

"No, I don't want them to think I've given up already."

"It's not worse than standing here, sulking."

"Okay."

"Good, we both need some comfort food."

We left the campus. I changed my high-heels to flats—I didn't care about looking perfect anymore—and he loosened his tie while taking me to eat pizza. It was a casual place, and some people turned to us when once we stepped inside, but then went back to their own business immediately. We chose a table in the corner nevertheless, away from the curious gazes.

* * *

"Look, I know you usually get your advice from Pepper, but allow me to say a few things… Before her, I ran the company for some time and I believe I did a fairly good job."

"Yeah, apart from being exceptionally ego-centric and irresponsible. That's a luxury I can't afford." I took the last bite of my pizza.

"Here's where you're wrong. Maybe I didn't know what really mattered back then, but I knew what didn't. Like those assholes you saw tonight."

"I see your point. But eventually I'll need them. I'm not you."

"Again, kid, you're wrong. You don't need them. You need them to need you. And they do. Let them come to you when they want something. Don't let them think otherwise, or that they're superior to you. If you're a Stark,you don't have to take anyone's shit. I know I'm not the most reliable dad in the world, but trust me on this one."

"I can't really decide if you're being narcissistic, or wise."

"Well, there's always some wisdom in narcissism."

"It's not fair to be such a cool dad on our last day together."

"I can come here whenever you need me. It's only a matter of seconds with the suit."

"And that's exactly why I don't want you to come often."

It was about time I had to learn how to handle things on my own. Since I got my life back, either him or Pepper had always been there for me. This couldn't go on forever. If I wanted to be considered an adult, I had to act like one. When we returned home, I assured him that I would be fine while alone, but he refused to leave until the next morning. There was nothing you could do when he got stubborn. But I must have been exhausted; I slept until 11, and he was already gone when I woke up. I found a box in the main living room, though. There was a note on it.

_Not lethal, but will keep the bad guys away for a while. Always keep this with you, okay? You're a smart kid._

There was a small metal tube with a single button on the top of it. I wondered what it would do, but I knew better than trying it on myself.

"Miss Stark, you need to be at the Stark Tower at 12 o'clock," JARVIS reminded me. Damn, the labs were going to be furnished today! Where were the blueprints Pepper had given me? I took Dad's new gizmo—I was going to put it in my Chanel handbag—and took a look at the portraits of Howard and Maria Stark on the wall before I left the room, wondering what they would think of me if they were still alive.

* * *

I took Dad's advice in the college. I didn't suck up to anyone. But no one followed me around like a lost puppy just because I was Tony Stark's daughter, not even the nerdy Stark fanboys. To make up for what I lacked in social skills, I proved myself as a brilliant student at school and a promising businesswoman at work. At first, people weren't really enthusiastic about following my orders. They thought everything came so easy to me because I was Tony Stark's daughter. But I showed them that Pepper was my boss, too, and I had to answer to her. We were on the same boat here. Once they understood it, they liked me better.

I had zero social life, but I could live with that. Fooling around had never been my thing. Besides, my peers' way of fun was too premature for me. Thankfully I didn't have time to make useless friends.

But, oh, the group projects! I hated them. Finding a partner was a true pain in the ass. After the professor announced the assignment, everyone knew who they would pair up with, while I was desperately looking around to find someone. If I wanted to pass Introduction to Business Management, I had to find a partner immediately. But no one wanted to work with the cold, arrogant, control-freak Stark princess. Maybe I could talk to the professor and ask him to let me do the project alone…

"Hi!"

A girl pulled a desk next to me—we had already called it a day, people were leaving the classroom—and smiled. She had shiny, shoulder-length black hair, an athletic built and casual, but high-end clothes.

"Hi?" I greeted her back, but it had sounded like a question, as if I was a shock to be greeted. Damn, I was acting like a loser!

"Still looking for a partner?"

"Yeah, I am."

"So am I."

"Good to know I'm not the only loner around here," I teased. I would rather call myself like that before anyone else did. I extended my hand in a friendly manner. "I'm Olivia."

"Olivia Stark," her eyes shone with excitement. "It's an honor to finally meet you. When I heard that you were attending the same school with me… Oh my God! I mean, I saw you before, but didn't have the courage to introduce myself. You're my inspiration."

"Wow. Didn't know I had fans."

"You surely have."

"I'm sorry, what was your name?"

"Oh, how stupid of me!" She shook my hand. "My name's Sasha."

Sasha. She seemed like a nice person. Maybe that was because her star-struck attitude stroked my pride, but I liked her. At least I could make one friend in the college before I graduated. Dad was right, people came to me when they needed me. It just took some time.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! I know I haven't posted for a while, I was on a vacation, sorry. A few words on Olivia's mansion in New York: Those who watched _Agent Carter_ will remember the house ;) And in _Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes_, Maria Stark's museum was mentioned. I figured these two could be the same building in my fanfic. Oh, and there's a new character. Sasha is from the comics as well, but of course I won't tell you who she is. Not yet! Hope you are still enjoying the story. As always, reviews are much appreciated.**


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